As
far as I understand, until recently the job of anthropology
was to explain the mystic and everyday workings of uncivilized
people to the intellectual world of the 'civilized.' The anthropologist
would arrive at his field of study, a remote village in Africa
or South America, for example, and would begin to investigate.
With the help of informers from the village the anthropologist
would then get to know the rituals and superstitions of the
people until he or she 'understood' the target of study. At
that point a text would be written, to be read by the civilized
thus giving them more material to feel informed, knowledgeable
and superior. While these interpretations passed from hand to
hand between the lay people and professional intellectuals,
the ethnic group which had been studied continued with their
customs and practices not necessarily better nor worse.

In that sense these studies are a sort of intellectualized voyeurism
with supposedly scientific ends. Science, then, justified the
poetic desire of these anthropologists to understand the poetry
and art of these strange and mysterious people. Without a doubt
many of these researchers came across truly beautiful lessons
which they were able to understand deeply and transmit without
prejudicing the elements they had found and thus, in a sense,
created a poetry of their own for a people who might never see
the poetry of those Œothers¹.

Nevertheless,
what is probably true in many of the cases is that the anthropologists
who study (or studied) Œprimitive¹ peoples were never truly
able to enter fully into the life of the people they study,
or much less consider themselves Œone of them¹. I am thinking
here about the personal diaries of Malinowsky, the patriarch
of the field. His personal diaries reveal a person who not only
saw the people he studied with amazement and incredulity but
also with disgust and repulsion. Despite the beauty of his vision,
seen in his Œauthorized¹ works, these alternate texts prove
to be highly interesting when one thinks about the task of the
anthropologist. Interesting because if we see the other as something
completely distinct we then negate any similarity we might have
with them, and, therefor, we deny the humanity which we grant
ourselves from the outset.

With
that in mind, I find interesting any kind of exploration similar
to anthropology that comes not from the outside but instead
from the very place or people being scrutinized. The photography
of Maruch Santiz Gómez, in her show "Creencias"(Beliefs),
offers the viewer a vision of the Chiapas community of Chamula,
precisely from the point of view of one that comes from the
same community. Beginning in the creative workshops offered
by the state, Santiz Gómez has developed a sincere and
moving body of work which tries to pass on the local knowledge,
superstitions or beliefs, of the elders of the community to
the world outside.

The
pieces are made up of two parts: black and white photos with
the description of the belief below written in Tzotzil, Spanish
and English. The photos are simple but captivating and show
the world of Chamula without making it picturesque or folkloric.
Each photo is a visual explanation or demonstration of the belief
written below it.

One
of the pieces is called: "How to cure some who snores a lot".
The photo shows us a person sleeping in a bed while a second
person holds a sandal above his head, apparently about to hit
the sleeper on the nose with it. Below it is written: "If someone
snores a lot, you can hit him lightly on the nose with a sandal
or insert a little lizard¹s tail up one nostril. By doing either
of these things, that person will not snore again, because he
will have to jump up awake".

The
surprising thing about this work is that it presents a logic
completely outside the western or modern conception without
assuming the superiority of the viewer or the photographer.
Instead of feeling better or more than what is seen in the photos
one feels humbled by a knowledge so authentic and pure. So pure
that science and modernity haven¹t been strong enough to abolish
them. Although we laugh when we read the texts and "Creencias",
it is not with a sarcastic tone but one of joy and respect.
Because as much as we might know through science and other modern
techniques, these realities will always be valid. Possibly because
science can¹t explain things which it sees as absurd, things
which give us reason to live, things like art, poetry and, finally,
love.